A Different Kind of Hero
by Arcarius
Summary: "This mission is easy, get to this abandoned hospital and retrieve these documents that will later on be analyzed and then destroyed. No battling any freak shows, got it?" What happens when a mission turns into the next possible dysfunctional installment in an already dysfunctional team? One thing is for sure, SHIELD never makes anything easy.
1. There's nothing like an easy mission

**This is my first fanfic in The Avengers era. The story revolves in the Movie verse and I apologize if any spelling/grammar errors occur. Criticism is gladly accepted but flames will be ignored. I also apologize if the characters seem OOC, feel free to point it out.**

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[Found it yet?]

Steve's voice crackles through the rest of the Avengers comm. Thor, still not getting the hang of this new technology, shakes his head only to realize a bit too late after an awkward silence that he's supposed to respond like everyone else.

[I apologize, Captain America. I have not yet found these particular papers!]

[Why don't you yell louder? I don't think China heard you clearly enough!] Tony barks annoyingly while shuffling through another archive in yet another creepy abandoned ICU room.

[I do not understand...] Thor's puzzled voice booms through the comm. causing Clint to wince at the intensity before chuckling.

[Guys be quiet, otherwise you'll wake up the patients.]

Natasha's dry voice speaks immediately as his sentence finishes. [Haha, very funny.]

[I appreciate the unnecessary comment, Tasha.] Clint's tone is equally dry as he retorts towards the redhead standing ironically three feet away from him.

But luckily for Steve, Bruce and his calming tone fills the comm. with a small though very described explanation in which he's found a large unusual vault mounted against the wall inside the Pediatrics room. It had been hidden behind an enormous shelf cramped with stuffed animals that he'd "accidentally" pushed aside. Being the ever sensible logical man of the dysfunctional group, Bruce waits until everyone's present before "Hulk Smashing" the steel vault.

As he calms down while also receiving a spare shirt from Tony to put on, the rag-tag gang enters the apparently secret room that surprisingly turns out to be a lab. Natasha can't help but press her lips into a tight line as she and Clint walk stealthily further into the laboratory and around the different machines. Some of them still having caked up and dried blood splattered here and there. The assassins would stumble across tattered, broken dolls and toys along their path too which didn't exactly lower the creepy scale.

"Find those documents fast so we can get the hell out of here." Natasha says tensely before shutting down the comm. line. "This place gives me the creeps."

Though her face shows no hints of any emotions, Clint knows his partner better. He sees her posture being a bit too tense and the subtle grip on her gun was too tight. This place obviously brought bad memories for not only her, but the rest of the team, including himself he muses while kicking over a molded, rusty working bench having a variety of not so pretty utensils scattered atop the dirty wood. The bloodied tools cracks and topples unceremoniously on the tiled floor, making too much echoing noise in the otherwise too quiet room. Shuddering inwardly, the master marksman turns to the rest of the team scanning the laboratory.

"I agree with Agent Romanoff, we find those documents sooner than later and we'll ditch this place faster than Thor consumes a bag of pop tarts."

Nods comes from them all, minus a confused Demi-God. The motivation to be able to get out of the abandoned zombie land was enough to leave their hurried attempts with success. Within minutes after Clint's little "inspirational" speech, a whooped cheer from Steve and Tony's side has them all rushing over like rabid bunnies.

"Is it the files?" Bruce asks nervously as he eyes the exit from the lab.

"Man of Iron, have we retrieved what has rightfully been ours?" Thor questions as he tries to grab onto one piece of paper.

Tony shushes the men anxiously waiting behind him; he lets his visor slide down across his face and turns on its flashlight. The sudden bright light casts an eerily glow at the old creased papers as Iron Man quickly scans through them. The anxiety has been exchanged to anticipation when Tony finally shuts down the eyes' flashlights and lets his visor slide away, revealing a delighted face.

"Gentlemen, I think we've found our target." He holds up the documents with a wide grin as the rest of the Avengers exchange high-fives and silent agreement.

"That was easier than I thought-"

Steve doesn't manage to finish his sentence when there's a sudden when there's a loud screeching noise coming from deep within the room. Everyone's weapons are out in a flash, raised up to block or strike whatever thing that dares jump out of the shadows. The noise grows louder before coming to a halt, leaving them to relax slightly. Bruce sighs deeply while running a hand across his face, trying his best to calm down. Natasha has her bracelets activated, ready to deal a serious injure with her "Widow's Bite". Thor has already summoned Mjölnir, the hammer's present causing roaring thunders to be heard outside of the deserted hospital. Steve gingerly takes a step forwards and throws his shield blindly at the source, a clang is heard before the shield returns, flying back into his hand safe and sound. There is a tense silence filling the laboratory until Tony shatters it by using his gauntlet to fire off a repulsor blast against the place where Captain's shield had hit. The blast crackles at the spot, rising smoke covering the air.

"Was that necessary?" Steve asks in annoyance.

"It's much flashier," Tony shrugs at the old war veteran's pointed glare. "Care to repeat what you said before? I recall you saying something in the lines of this being easier than you thought, no?"

Steve mutters words closely resembling profanities while stepping closer to the armored billionaire. Before a verbal brawl can unfold, Clint hushes the two by firing an arrow in the tight spot between the two heroes' feet. He brushes past them, ripping the arrow out of the disgusting tiled floor. Natasha sends the duo a fiery glare, silencing their protests and sure to come excuses. Clint, having retrieved his arrow and knocking it onto his bow, turns once again towards the darkened place where the noise had first erupted from. His piercing blue eyes search through the murky void concealing whatever unknown object, just as Bruce is about to ask the team if they should embark deeper down the laboratory Clint swiftly fires an arrow into the darkness.

"What was the meaning of that, Clinton?" Thor inquires as he latches Mjölnir back on his belt.

A small smirk ghosts across the marksman's features. "Just wait and see."

His finger gently traces the button built into his bow, pushing it. Within seconds an enormous bang hits their ears, following up by a blinding light completed with the colors red, orange and yellow. In short, the end of the laboratory is consumed in flames. Tony pats the back of the marksman as they approach a gaping hole in the wall thanks to the arrow. It's less scarier now when the whole room is lit up by the fire, giving off a vibe of a doctor who's patients just weren't that cooperative instead of a torture chamber.

"No wonder I took a liking to you, Legolas." Tony smirks as he walks side-by Clint. "You've got the same style as I do and that's a compliment!"

"Oh wow, I feel so honored," Clint mutters sarcastically. "Weren't you the one who took the most convincing after the whole "Loki Incident"? You banned me from Stark's Tower and had Jarvis shoot me whenever I was ten miles within the vicinity!"

The genius billionaire playboy philanthropist waves his index finger back and forth in front of Clint's face. "That was all in the past and as Gandhi said; we should forgive and forget as well as move onto the future."

"Gandhi never said that." Natasha states coolly, giving him another trademark glare. "Now shut up before I place a bullet in both your mouths."

Iron Man and Hawkeye hurries to close their mouths, silencing their protests as they join the others. The noise seems to come from yet another hidden room. Though this one didn't seem to store any laboratory equipment, just the remnants of more broken toys and blood splatters. Upon closer examination, the Avengers notices that the source of the sound was from some kind of rusty steel machine having fallen onto a metallic box, causing dusty old papers to scatter all over the floor, the box had a dent on top of it while the equipment had broken in half.

"Uh guys..." Steve's nervous voice snaps the rest of the heroes to attention. "I think I've found something…"

The rag-tag bunch runs quickly over to the Captain, coming to a halt as soon as they lay eyes onto the long tank like tube looming dangerously in front of them. It's two meter long, running from the roof and stopping at the dirty tiled floor. Bruce scrutinizes it, coming to the conclusion that it has to be quite ancient as opposed to the rest of the fairly modern equipment. Even though the glass is foggy, obscuring the contents inside of it, its appearance is ancient. The glass has dents here and there while also being of an old material used in the late nineteen hundreds. He wonders briefly if Fury's shouting would be enough to break it when his breath catches in his throat upon analyzing it again. Shakily, he points at the foggy glass.

"Am I seeing things wrong or is there 'someone' inside there?" He voices timidly, making sure to put emphasize on the "someone".

"I really hope you're seeing things wrong, Doc…" Steve gulps as they all silently stare at the tube.

No one dares to move a finger, not even Tony who usually blasts through everything with the excuse that it's flashier or that they'd take too long time. Finally it's the Demi-God who steps closer to the tank; he unlatches Mjölnir and with one swift movement, breaks a hole through the glass. Disgusting smelly green fluid flows out of the hole, coating the floor. Suddenly, something falls out of the tank, landing in a heap onto the puddle of unknown liquid. A beat passes and then another before the thing begins to shiver, slowly it rolls around, facing the Avengers.

"In Odin's name, what is that?" Thor calls out in surprise.

He is about to bend down to see more of the thing's appearance, when Natasha stops his actions by grabbing onto his cape. "Stop, we don't know what that is and what it is capable of doing. Stark, if you may."

Not wasting any time, Tony lets his visor slide back on his face while he turns on the eyes' flashlights. The bright lights shine upon the thing, revealing long dark hair across the floor which in turn effectively covers its appearance. The hair is unkempt and tousled and as the light travels further down they all see pale scarred arms and legs peeking out of an oversized, long white robe. Its exposed limbs has bruises covering every spot, on top of them are sick looking flesh wounds that have clearly been infected. Dried blood cakes the edges of the wounds, not fully healed. On every exposed patch of skin there's burn marks of fourth degrees, Bruce thinks the hidden parts under the robe most likely have much more severe bruising and burnt skin. Even so, he sees the thing's identity directly, having worked as a doctor for so long while trying to find peace in the worst environments of mankind.

"That thing is a girl," he whispers softly, crouching so that he's eye-level with her still body and ignoring Natasha's order to stay put. "Yep, that is a girl. Looks like she's barely fourteen years old."

Steve coughs awkwardly at the sudden show of affection from the usually calculating doctor. But as always his instincts kick in and he is immediately crouched next to the scientist, checking the girl's condition. His index finger presses gently against her neck, only to go cold when no pulse is found. Steve shakily glances at Bruce who understands the all too familiar look.

"We'll take her with us, who knows what her DNA samples will show." He states firmly, carrying the girl bridal style.

"Since when did you become the boss?" Natasha smirks, a slight hint of amusement in her usually cold tone.

"Since I realized that SHIELD along with Fury most likely has something to do with this!"

A large gesture towards the haunted laboratory and broken tank from the doctor accompanied with slightly tinted green skin has the rest of the team snapping their mouths shut, with the exception of Natasha because she always has that face of indifference. Although the air is tense, the sense of dread and impending doom occupies everyone's thoughts. Tony is the one to finally break the anxious mood.

"Okay, who said this was going to be an easy mission?"

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**If you thought that Bruce was OOC. I've always thought that he has a soft spot for children, at least in the movie it felt like that. **

**As I said beforehand, critique is greatly approved of but flames will be terminated or moreso ignored.**


	2. Never underestimate anyone

**I'd like to thank all of you who've favorited and followed this story, it means a lot to me. I also want to give special thanks to ssaharadesert for the constructive criticsm. I will take it into account for future chapters, and I am pleased to take more of your thoughts!**

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Saying that Fury is displeased is an understatement; he's thoroughly pissed beyond words. But when isn't he? The director glares furiously at the supposedly team of heroes, shaking his head repeatedly before settling to pacing around Tony and Bruce's tech-lab as Tony proudly calls it.

"I am this close," he growls threateningly, holding up his index finger and thumb to show a minimal space between them. "This close to shooting all of you in the face."

"Wow, I'm shaking," Tony retorts mockingly.

Clint drags a hand across his face, sighing deeply. "Look, we brought you the assigned documents and found an illegal laboratory where there weren't supposed to be any illegal laboratories. We fulfilled the mission, so cut us some slack!"

"You know something don't you?" Bruce deadpans, eyes narrowing as he glares at Fury.

There's a quick passing of something akin to hurt that flashes in the director's eyes, but it appears and disappears with such a rapid speed that the Avengers take it to be the lighting in the room. There's no logical or possible way for someone like Fury to show emotions that doesn't relate to anger or annoyance, the majorities of times it's a mixture of the two. The day Fury actually genuinely smiles is the day Natasha voluntarily accepts to take care of a kid's birthday party while wearing an enormous bunny suit. The mental picture alone is enough to send bile rising in Clint's throat; he gulps it down and shudders at the thought.

"So just because of that one time, you guys will never trust me?" Fury mutters accusingly.

"Well there was that time when you were hiding a nuclear bomb under the floor in your office..." Steve muses, hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Do not forget Midgardian, the time you replaced the liquid controlling this mechanical bird with something dark and filthy!" Thor roars as he points an accusing finger at the director. "We almost passed onto Death's doorstep!"

"Accidents happen," Fury defends himself angrily.

"Or that time you shot me in the chest thinking I was a 'double-agent'?" Clint uses his fingers to add quotation marks at the last two words.

"Like I said, accidents happen...-"

"You barged into Stark tower in the middle of the night, sabotaged Jarvis and held Pepper hostage." Tony interjects, frown present on his features. "Should I also remind you that you weren't drunk?"

"Let's not forget all those times you've rebuilt the glass cage for the Hulk but brushing it off with excuses such as 'What if there's a new Loki in town?'"

Natasha's blunt words cuts like razors through the air, silencing whatever protest that was going to come from Fury's mouth. Bruce arches an eyebrow upon the sudden mention of The Other Guy, but also to signal to the director with the words: "Do we need to say anything more?"

The director presses his lips into a tight line and the heroes know they're in for a long run of swear words. Thankfully, Agent Hill walks into the tech-lab. She nods to the rest of them whom acknowledge her presence before turning to face Fury.

"The council would like to have a word with you."

It's simple and straight to the point, Agent Hill style. Fury leaves the room fuming, a string of incoherent words being growled as he exits. Thor, Tony, Clint and Steve can't help but chuckle at the man's antics. Their little happy minute is short though by a sudden heartbeat coming from the heartbeat monitor standing over the young girl who lies on a metallic bed. She miraculously stirs a small movement that has the rest of them assembled near her bed in the blink of an eye.

The young girl had on Bruce's orders, been moved to one of their workbenches that had transformed into a makeshift bed. Tubes and necessary fluids as well as machines where all stuck in every vacant space on her forearms, midsection and legs. A ventilator was strapped securely to her mouth, keeping her breathing even though no intakes or exhales escaped her lips. Still, Bruce had specifically told them they'd wait approximately one day to see if she'd wake up, if not they'd take the DNA sample and dispose of her body. Thinking back to it, it wasn't surprising how much fury Fury had been in when he saw the scene, no pun intended.

"Everyone be quiet!" Steve commands, hushing them but to no avail. "Seriously guys..."

Their voices combine, raising to an impossible decibel much thanks to the Demi-God. Natasha rolls her eyes at their antics before lightly tapping her foot against the metallic floor. The noise falls down at such an incredible rate that it leaves everyone's murmuring echoes echoing around the room, the only sound audible being the heartbeat monitor afterwards. Steve gives the Russian assassin a thankful smile who merely shrugs.

"How do you do that?" He wonders in awe.

"The same way I stopped you from calling me 'mam'," she replies simply.

Steve's smile falters, remembering the days he'd tried to be polite only to have several knife wounds here and there as well as severe mental scarring of constantly being threatened at a daily basis. He'd made a promise to himself to never get on the Black Widow's bad side, ever.

"Fellow comrades, it would seem as if the young maiden is waking up," Thor says as quietly as he can which isn't even close to a whisper, more like a person's normal speaking voice.

"Please," Tony holds up a hand to silence him. "Don't go Shakespeare on me."

The Avengers gather around the metallic bed, this time much silently. She's stirring, her heart rate going faster and faster. It's almost surreal, seeing someone who presumably would be dead waking up. Bruce feels a rock lift itself off of his shoulders, he knows, too well, the feeling of having to see the light go out in a person's eyes or seeing their chest rise upwards one last time before deflating and he knows all of them have experienced the same feelings of grieve and guilt.

They've all been through death countless times; they've all gone through the pain of losing someone dear more than once.

And even though the girl is a stranger it's still uncomfortable to see a child at Death's doorstep. Especially one who looks as if she'd fallen fifty feet from a burning building only to land on a heap of broken shards or thorns, Bruce wouldn't be surprised if she actually did that to receive such wounds and scars. Although her pale skin hasn't shown a bit of color, her dark hair has been pulled back, flowing around her head thus giving a full view of a heart shaped face. From afar she'd look vulnerable yet healthy, but on closer examination there were dark angry bruises marking her cheeks. A scar trailed down her forehead, across her button nose and to her jaw along with small cuts here and there. There were patches of skin that clearly showed signs of having swollen up before and the left side of her burnt face was of badly third degree almost bordering fourth, beyond repairing. How her heart was able to beat, how she was able to faintly grasp on to life, was beyond Bruce's imagination.

"It's a miracle," Steve whispers breathlessly as he watches the supposedly dead girl's heartbeat quicken, her breathing steadying. "I swear I didn't feel any pulse."

Tony snorts, a smirk playing on his lips. "Remember the time I flew into space while carrying a nuclear missile and then landing unconsciously on the ground almost dying from sacrificing myself for everyone? Who was the one saying I only cared about myself?"

"Your point being?" Clint grins, already knowing the answer.

"One, you're a hypocrite. Two, you obviously judge too easily and three, your judgment have a ninety nine percentage of being wrong."

"And...?" Clint patiently waits for the punch line or whatever snarky remark the billionaire is going to say.

"And thus, it's no wonder she's alive, Gramps. But I'm guessing the ice is still ever present in your brain, must take a while to defrost from something that's not functioning. It's almost kind of like oiling a rusty cogwheel!"

"Are you done bullying Cap?" Clint says amused after having high-fived Tony and restricted Steve to a safe distance away from the genius.

Tony's about to make another witty comment when Bruce hushes him, forehead creased as he motions for them to leave some space between the makeshift beds and ignoring the indiscreet eye roll tossed his way. Seconds pass, going into minutes before dissolving into hours and when the last bit of patience is about to drop and Thor's about to push an interesting button on Bruce and Tony's latest prototype...

Her eyelids flutter open, blinking slowly. They watch as pitch black pupils dilate before returning to their original size, familiarizing themselves with the lights. Slowly, almost mechanically, she sits up. The movement startles Bruce, who's the most experienced in medical health. She shouldn't be able to move due to her injuries, she should be paralyzed, in a coma, or dead. But the wounds, the burn marks and scars doesn't seem to faze her, as if she's used to the sight, like they're a part of her. She takes one glance at the tubes and the ventilator strapped to her mouth and begins to pull them off of her body in robotic movements.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Clint shouts in bewilderment, striding over and placing gentle but firm hands on her shoulders. "Lay down, okay?"

Tony watches in mild confusion at Clint's agitation, he hasn't seen Hawkeye lose his cool before. The genius makes a mental note to "accidentally" hack into the SHIELD files later on and "peek" at his teammate's file. Clint on the other hand is disturbed by the whole scenario in front of him; the girl's eyes are dull, lifeless to put it in a more descriptive term. She stares at them but it's as if they aren't in her line of vision, those black orbs are completely glazed over.

They saved her from death but her awakened self looks even more dead than her unconscious one.

She blinks at Clint's hands, resting atop her shoulders, and then her head faces him. Their eyes lock and the expert marksman is determined not to lose to the staring game, but soon the girl turns her head back to the tubes and begins where she started. Ignoring Clint's presence along with the rest of the Avengers, she plucks out tube after tube, absentmindedly noticing the small gushes of blood oozing out from where she tears off the tubes before returning to her handiwork. Her small frame and hunched over back as she bends over to rip off the tubes on her legs makes her look fragile, as if the smallest push would break her.

It's a bizarre view, tube after tube coated with blood at their ends as they're plucked out of skin before dangling limply at the sides of the metallic bed. The girl continues the procedure until none are left; Clint stares in shock at her.

"Why did you do that?" He murmurs quietly, an unrecognizable sadness laced within those words.

She gives him a blank look, eyes tracing over his face. Her pupils suddenly widens as Clint's grip tightens on her shoulders along with a little shake that he gives her. Her black orbs cautiously glance at his hands positioned atop of them, jaw set tightly. The next thing anyone knows, the girl has gone more pale than physically possible and before Clint can even comprehend what's going on the unthinkable happens.

For the second time in Clint "Hawkeye" Barton's life, a woman had broken both his arms.

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**Now, about the end, Clint isn't overpowered by her. He was simply surprised and not awaiting what was coming to him, think of it as him having his defense down for a split second. So in my perspective he isn't OOC but just, not seeing it happening.**

**Constructive criticism is happily wanted, flames and trolling will be ignored and laughed at.**


	3. Alice Colten

**I'd like to apologize for my absence. School has just begun so I've been busy, considering the fact that I also got down with a nasty cold didn't help me at all either in working on this fic. I will try my best to update every two weeks. Otherwise, I apologize for the excuses I am making and want to thank the people who have liked and favored this story.**

**Without further ado, here is the third chapter of A Different Kind of Hero!**

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"I don't trust her," Natasha mutters coldly, glaring daggers at the girl who's sitting inside the cell Loki had once been prisoned in.

"Relax Tasha, there was no harm done." Clint tries to reassure the Russian assassin, only to have the glare pointed at him. "Look, I'm fine!"

"She broke your ulna and radius from both your arms, not to mention also straining your humerus as well as your joints from the sudden pull." Bruce explains softly yet sternly. "You are in no way fine."

Clint rolls his eyes, trying to conjure his body language into a wave of his hand. Unfortunately it fails due to the two blue casts his arms are bandaged in. When he sees the others not catching on to his hinting, he gives an indignant huff. "It's not like I've had worse..."

"Two broken arms are described as worse, Agent Barton." Nick Fury's grumpy voice jerks them into attention. "You of all people should know how every asset of the body is important; in this case your arms. How do you think you'll be able to shoot?"

"I'll manage," he says confidently. "I'm a fast healer. Besides, it's not as if Manhattan will be attacked this soon after Iron Man's "welcoming present" to the Chitauri!"

Tony scoffs at the marksman's finger quotation gesture. "That, actually helped greatly and I think I deserve a bit, if not, a huge amount of respect."

"Shut up, Stark!" Fury barks all the while striding forwards to the control-pad, thumb pushing a button and activating the speakers. "Oi, you better tell us who you are and where you're from or things are gonna get messy!"

"Gee, no wonder Loki didn't feel threatened by us..." Stark mumbles to an amused Steve.

Black eyes peek cautiously at the director from under her black hair, body cowering at the loudness of his voice. She looks even worse in the light, two deep set of bags under her eyes. The girl begins to squirm at their scrutinizing gazes and begins to fidget while pulling at her robe. Fury's exposed eye twitches as he repeats the question, though quieter this time and slower. Silence follows, until Bruce finally steps forwards, giving Fury a gentle push to the side before talking into the microphone.

"Are you afraid of him?" He asks softly, smiling when she gives a curt nod. "Don't worry, we don't mean you any harm. What's your name, sweetie?"

Only a beat passes and then a small, almost inaudible voice speaks out, sounding more like a whisper. "Alice..."

Bruce, satisfied by the answer, continues. "Okay, that's great. Hi Alice, do you have a surname?"

"Colten..." After that, she quickly turns her gaze elsewhere.

"Thank you Alice, you've done very well." The doctor concluded, easing her off of the conversation.

The change in posture is immediate. Alice's whole body relaxes in a small yet noticeable way. She gives a faint smile, almost invisible due to her pale lips, at the doctor before lying down on the bench. Her back is facing towards them, indicating that their interrogation is over.

"Hey, I'm not done with you!" Fury yells angrily. "Don't think that-!"

"Director, with all due respect I think that we're done here." Steve cuts in with a firm tone to his voice.

A few seconds pass bringing a comical scene of Fury pressing his lips into a thin line and twitching his visible eye at a rapid speed. Tony coughs to hide a chuckle as Natasha pushes the director out of the room before he might develop a spasm, which would inevitably cause combustion of him. Thor glances around the room, still not comfortable around the cell that once had his brother held prison and caused Mjölnir to find him unworthy for a scaring second.

"I find it would be best for us to leave this maiden alone..."

"Big guy's right," Tony stifles a yawn. "I'm going to take a short nap, anyone want to join?"

"It is pretty late, after all." Steve ponders before giving in and following the eccentric billionaire.

The three leave the room, causing Natasha to take extra notice of Clint's broken arms due to the lack of crowding people. She shakes her head at his carelessness, promptly ignoring his sheepish grin directed at her. The assassin turns sharply to the doctor, her ever present glare flashing.

"Doctor, I'd be least problematic if you'd follow me out of here." She spoke as a matter of fact. "I'm not sure I'll be able to compose myself if I'm left with these two."

Bruce gives a tired smile, nodding somewhat reluctantly. "Of course, let's go then."

He remembers all too clearly the murderous aura surrounding Natasha when the accident happened. If it wasn't for Steve carrying Clint away from Alice and the rest of them holding her back, the girl's chances of survival would have been zero to nothing… The doctor shudders at thought of the dangerous looking flames flickering in the assassin's eyes while Bruce had examined Clint's arms before putting the cast over them. Natasha was not one to underestimate, she packed quite the punch and if Tony had bent his head back a second too late he would be missing an eyeball.

The assassin punches the marksman's shoulder as they pass, scowling yet again at him and ignoring the small yelp of pain. As the room falls into an eerie silence, Clint isn't quite sure what to do. He tries to use his hands to remove a loose thread on the right arm's cast, only to realize it's impossible even for someone like him. Gritting his teeth, the marksman forces his left hand though its arm's in a cast, to come closer to the thread. Unfortunately it doesn't work no matter how hard Clint tries and the archer has to inevitably end his fruitless attempts.

Clint glances at Alice's back, pondering how to catch her attention since he honestly hasn't got a thing to do in his present predicament. The marksman also doesn't want to receive a Widow's Bite from a certain sensitive person. Sighing, he trudges over to the control panel and with slight disability, clicks the button marking the speakers.

"So, I presume you're also dysfunctional like the rest of us." It's not a question, more of a statement.

No answer, he's met with dead silence. But it's not as if Clint's hasn't had tougher nuts to crack so he casually strolls forwards and taps the glass. The small yet dangerous action causes the floor beneath the cell to open up and the morbid turbine to replace the roof, with a deafening screech the turbine launches itself to action. Alice jolts up from her seat, falling in a heap on the floor while shakes rack through her body. She lies down in a fetus position before tightly hugging her knees as she hyperventilates. Clint would feel bad for her, except he doesn't.

"Oh my god, you should've seen the look on your face!" The marksman says as he tries and fails to cover his mouth as well as the chuckles escaping it. "That was priceless; I think I might actually forgive you for messing up my arms!"

Alice stares at him with wide eyes, shaking from head to toe. Clint sighs and walks back to the control panel, clicking a button. The turbine shuts off, being replaced by roof again as well as having the floor come back on. He glances back at her with an eyebrow arched at her behavior; he vaguely connects her posture to a crazy drug-addict he and Tasha once had to interrogate. The man had curled up like a baby on the floor while mumbling some mumbo-jumbo that made no sense whatsoever. When he thought harder about it, they did have a striking resemblance. Clint shrugs, thinking about druggies wouldn't directly fix the problem at hand. He clicks the speaker button with a small handicap before turning to look at her fully.

"Okay, I get it. We freak you out, but in my defense the only reason we have you locked up is because you broke my arms. So, you can't really blame me!"

She continues to stare at him as if he was a freak of nature, which he kind of is Clint can't really argue with that. Rolling his eyes, the marksman turns off the speakers before giving her one last glance. He's about to exit the room when an almost inaudible whimper is heard from the cell.

"Am I going to die?"

If it weren't for Clint being the only one in the room, he wouldn't have heard it. Alice's voice is of aphonic quality, barely a whisper. He spins around to assess the girl who has now crawled into an awkward sitting position while hugging her knees. In the bright light Alice looks even worse than she did unconscious in the tech-lab and Clint briefly ponders that she might already be dead.

"If you ask me, you already look like pretty dead." Clint mutters lightly, trying to add a joking tone to his voice.

"Am I going to die?"

She repeats the question, staring with scared eyes at him. The marksman scratches the back of his neck sheepishly; interrogation had never been his thing. If it were Natasha she'd most likely say something blunt or brutally honest, but this was Clint and Clint didn't do bluntness. He preferred being a general asshole, at least there'd be no guilt when it came to eliminating the target. But how is he supposed to eliminate a kid?

"Look, we're not going to kill you." He begins simply while inwardly rolling his eyes at the ridiculous words spilling from his mouth, kids these days, why did they have to be so melodramatic? "The big bad pirate you saw was just joking around; he's not going to do anything to you. None of us are we're just teasing!"

Alice blinks once, then twice before she hugs herself even tighter. The strong lighting gives a full view of her arms; they're bared with scars and burn marks of impossible degrees. Clint wonders briefly is she actually is a zombie, who would be awesome but he doesn't think Natasha would appreciate that. He frowns as she curls up into a ball again; this was definitely not what he signed up for. The door behind him slides open and jolts Clint out of his musing. As he spins around he comes face to face with an Agent Hill.

"Agent Barton, it's time for your check up." She says firmly, eyeing a doctor who is hiding behind her. "I hope I won't have to compromise you like always?"

Clint gives a snort at that, but follows nevertheless. He still remembers how pissed Agent Hill would be whenever he decided to venture in the air vents or simply hide from the hospital room. He hated being immobilized; he was a hawk for Christ sake! Although the look in Hill's eyes tells him if he did do anything stupid she'd make sure Natasha would be babysitting him, frankly, the marksman wasn't up for that.

He throws a glance over his shoulder at the fragile girl sitting on the floor, completely encased in her world of daydreaming. Clint shakes his head at Alice as he exits the room, wondering just when the Avengers had gone from megalomaniac tyrants to paranoid little girls. Honestly, nothing is going to surprise him from now on.

Although if he knew just how badly things would look for the future, then Clint would have had no trouble shooting the girl pointblank. Only he didn't, and hell was about to break loose.

* * *

**If it was short I apologize again, also if it was rushed at the end. **

**As always, criticism is greatly appreciated while trolling or flaming will be looked down upon/ignored.**


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